


The Smuggler's Guide To Breaking In A New Ship

by jaggedwolf



Category: The Strange Case of Starship Iris (Podcast)
Genre: Background Violet/Arkady, Canon-Compliant Through S1E10, Gen, Rumor Crew
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-08
Updated: 2019-04-08
Packaged: 2020-01-07 02:58:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18401756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jaggedwolf/pseuds/jaggedwolf
Summary: It’s a long way from New Jupiter.





	The Smuggler's Guide To Breaking In A New Ship

_Step 1: Handle logistics early_

“So.” Sana looked around the cockpit of the _Iris_. “We should talk rooms.”

Arkady groaned, leaning her head against the wall she sat against. “Are you going to make us pull lots again? Because I was gonna call dibs on whichever one’s nearest the airlock.”

“It’s”—Violet glanced at her wrist, her watch calibrated to New Jupiter time—“11:40 in the morning, and most of our stuff is, uh, exploded. Shouldn’t we figure out if we’re being followed or how much food we have or several other things, before we worry about where anyone’s sleeping?”

Park made an expression of agreement from where he stood, an expression that quickly disappeared as soon as Sana glanced at him. That latter detail didn’t bode well, but, priorities. 

“I’m not sleeping for a while.” Krejjh dragged out the word “while” in a sing-song voice, over from the pilot’s seat. “I’ve gotta get used to this bad boy.”

Violet narrowed her eyes at that, her gaze landing on Krejjh’s bandaged knee. Sana marked down dealing with piloting shifts as the next to-do. 

Krejjh looked at Brian. “Where does that one even come from?”

“Bad boy?” Brian frowned. “I don’t actually know but—”

Arkady coughed loudly. “Sana’s right that we should figure it out now. It’s the kind of thing that leads to stupid arguments when everyone’s sleep-deprived and in a bad mood. Especially when we’re a big group.”

Park shrugged slightly. RJ continued bouncing their knee up-and-down while looking at the floor, but the focus in their gaze made it clear they were paying attention.

“Exactly,” Sana said, “Brian, Krejjh, you two want the captain’s cabin? There actually is one on this ship.”

“Yeah, I saw it and uh,” Brian made a face, “that’s a lot of space. And it’s kinda not that near the cockpit, weirdly enough? What do you think bud?”

“I mean, I don’t really care? I’m only in there for sleeping and, y’know.” Krejjh chortled, waggling their eyebrows. 

RJ’s face flushed bright red, all the way to the tips of their ears and even Park’s face seemed to betray a slight hint of discomfort. She’d gotten the sense neither of them were particularly good with new people, but this seemed a little—oh. That would be another awkward fact to throw into the mix. Arkady was mid-way through dramatically rolling her eyes at Krejjh when she realized the same thing, her eyes landing on the two former agents instead. “Holy shit.”

Violet too, caught on then. “Yeah, okay, the IGR definitely has recordings of—”

“Krejjh and I together? Yeah, we already figured,” Brian’s voice had an undercurrent of anger to it, as carefully neutral as his expression was. Krejjh reached a hand out to squeeze his reassuringly. Brian blinked a couple of times. “We’ll just take the room closest to the cockpit.”

“A great choice, Crewman Jeeter,” said Krejjh firmly. 

Sana nodded. “Okay—”

“Take the captain’s cabin, Sana.” Arkady interrupted. “Please. Use the extra space to, I dunno, make another hammock, or work on one of your usual projects. For the love of god, what is the point of hot-wiring an IGR ship if you’re not gonna enjoy any of the benefits?”

“I think the main benefit was us getting off the planet after the _Rumor_ exploded?” Violet offered. 

Arkady glared at her. Violet cleared her throat, looking slightly guilty. “Captain? Even if you weren’t, um, the captain, it does seem only fair. It’s your ship we blew up for Plan B.” 

That was even worse logic that Sana could try batting away. She had designed and made the _Rumor_ , and sure, it had meant plenty—every person that had helped filch a part for it, every person who knew a guy who knew a guy, every person that had ever step foot on the ship and every person they’d made sure never would. Hours and years of dreams and history intertwined.

But in the end, still only a ship. 

Her friends were safer now and they’d dealt a good blow to the IGR. An easy trade to make any day.

She’d grieve a little, but hey, she’d gotten pretty good over the years at prioritizing grief. No sense in disagreeing with Violet now—Brian and Krejjh looked like they’d have their own pieces to say if she did. So, Sana gave in. “Okay. I’ll take it. For now.”

“Wow, I really thought that was going to be a harder sell.” Arkady’s eyebrows shot up. “Yeah, still calling dibs on that airlock room.”

Sana smiled. “How do you know this ship doesn’t have a cabin for the first mate?”

“Because Class-E ships don’t.” Arkady smirked. “Also, I could always resign.”

“Oh no,” said Sana, “if I’m the captain you’re first mate.”

“Aw, really?” A loose grin grew on Arkady’s face and she stretched an arm out towards Brian. “I feel like Brian’s really grown as a person.”

“Nope.” Brian firmly shook his head. ”No personal growth here that would qualify me for first mate.”

Arkady turned her grin to Violet sitting next to her, the two of them still holding hands. “Liu?” 

“I don’t think I fulfill all the necessary—what was the word you used that time?” Violet’s lips curled into a smile. “Ah, ‘facets’ for the job, unfortunately.”

“Guess I’m stuck with it then.” Arkady sighed.

“Getting back on topic,” Sana said, “that leaves plenty of rooms open for the rest of you to pick from.”

RJ started at that. A hint of red in their face remained from earlier, and they looked up, nodding sharply at Sana. “W-will do, Captain.”

Park laid a hand on RJ’s shoulder. “Why don’t the two of us take a walk around the ship then?” 

“That sounds like a great idea,” said Sana. 

The two of them filed out of the cockpit, the tension in the air leaving with them. Violet let out a brief laugh, shaking her head. “God, our lives are so weird.”

“That they are,” commiserated Sana. She considered her next statement. If Park and RJ had cause for concern with this next decision, she’d make sure they were heard, but this felt like the right time. “We’ll need to make pit-stops, and I’ll have to confirm a few things, but I think for now Telemachus is our best bet to regroup, figure out where we stand. Any objections?”

Everyone shrugged their assent. Sana spoke again. “Krejjh? You know what to do.”

  


_Step 2: Keep in touch with old contacts_

“Captain!” called Arkady. She limped along the hallway. Her arm was slung around Violet’s shoulders—that would be reassuring if she was actually putting any weight on it. Instead, she pulled Violet along, Violet laughing at something.

Sana frowned as they approached her. “Are you supposed to be walking around?”

“Take it up with the medic,” said Arkady.

“She shouldn’t strain herself,” said Violet, her gaze dropping to Arkady’s bandaged up thigh, “but she’s okay to walk if she’s careful.” 

“See? I’m all set.” Arkady’s hand rose from Violet’s shoulder to run a hand through her own hair, her face smug. 

“Walking. Only.” Violet shot Arkady a look of disapproval, though she was clearly fighting back a smile. “More importantly, we finally finished sweeping the ship. No bugs, no tracking devices.”

“Oh?” Sana made no move to hide her surprise at the update coming from Violet. “That’s good to hear.”

“Violet insisted on supervising. You know, in case I managed to injure myself _walking_ ,” snarked Arkady.

“I’m sure you’d find a way.” Violet rolled her eyes. “And I did have to adjust the bandage ten minutes in.”

Sana and Violet shared a look. A look they’d shared many times before when it came to Arkady. It was nice having Violet around, even beyond the medical knowledge and the fact that Arkady smiled a little more these days.

“Anyway,” Arkady pressed on, a sly smile on her face. “Figured helping Violet be a little less useless at the whole technology thing was a worthy cause.” 

“Okay, while you’ve been very informative,” said Violet, “I feel like you’re exaggerating a little there.” 

“Liu, you thought the coffee-maker battery was a recording device.”

“Because you told me it was one!”

Arkady let out a laugh. “Krejjh wouldn’t have bought that and Dwarnians don’t even have coffee!”

“That-that makes no sense!” Violet’s nose was scrunched up in irritation, and she opened her mouth to make another argument.

Sana coughed. “Guys?”

Arkady and Violet turned their gazes to Sana, sheepishness filling both their faces. Sana raised an eyebrow in amusement. 

“Moving on, sharing and expanding our skillsets is never a bad thing. We could all branch out,” said Sana. “Violet, maybe you could share some of your paramedic knowledge with Arkady next time?”

“It’d probably come in useful for her,” said Violet dryly.

Arkady shrugged. “As long as no one asks me to learn Dwarnian next.”

“In any case,” said Sana, “I know being stuck on the ship is a pain, especially now, but I’m glad to see that the two of you are managing to be creative with your dates.”

“Wha—This wasn’t a date.” Arkady made a face. She turned to Violet. “Right? Was that a date?” 

Arkady’s eyes were wide open, and looked like she might bolt regardless of what the answer was. It was all very entertaining. Krejjh and Brian would be disappointed to have missed out on this. 

“I mean, if we agree on it, it could have been?” offered Violet, sounding as unsure as Arkady did. “Though, I think we did say that—”

Sana took that as her cue to slip away, easily making it to the end of the hallway before either of them noticed.

“Hey, Captain!” called Arkady, “I confirmed the IGR can’t trace us through it, so the out-of-ship comms are back up. Maybe you should make sure Telemachus is a go?”

Sana glanced back. Both Violet and Arkady were looking expectantly at her. Something told her that they were less concerned about the safety of their planned stop, and more concerned at getting back at her. “I’ll get right on that.”

She kept walking to her cabin, hearing snatches of their conversation before she got too far away.

“Do Dwarnians really not have coffee?”

“Have you seen Krejjh drink any?”

“I..kind of assumed they tried it before. And that the resulting energy levels made everyone agree that they shouldn’t.” 

“That’s fair.”

Sana slid the door of the captain’s cabin shut behind her. She breathed in. Then out. This was fine. They had options if he said no.

That wasn’t where her hesitation lay. “Computer, outside call. Sana Tripathi to Ignatius Campbell.”

The call went through immediately. 

“Captain Tripathi. You’re alive.” The relief in Campbell’s voice was almost tangible, even over the comms. It reshaped a greeting Sana had heard countless times. 

She started walking around her room. Another use of the extra space. “Are you safe?”

“I should be asking you that.” Campbell slowly replied, “Yes, we are. No crackdowns.”

Sana let out a sigh of relief. The IGR had heard far more about Campbell’s operation than she liked. As Arkady would say, any detail given away was one detail too many. It’d been a week since New Jupiter, much longer since she’d last spoken to Campbell, and nothing happening in that interval was a promising sign.

“We took care of our leak. Everyone’s safe,” Sana said, getting to the point, “It’s going to be a roundabout path, but we’re heading to Telemachus. I know, I owe you an explanation, but if stopping at yours isn’t possible I need to let the crew sooner rather than later, figure out other arrangements—” 

“Like I said, you don’t owe me a thing,” Campbell interjected, his voice a little warmer, “And the crew of the _Rumor_ is always welcome.”

“About that—we’re on a different ship these days. I’ll send you the details.” 

“What happened to the _Rumor_?” 

“We used the moonshine still to jerry-rig a self-destruct mechanism. Part of taking care of the leak.”

“Captain Tripathi…” Campbell sounded sympathetic, and then amused. “Would this have anything to do with reports of a ‘fiendish attack on government property’ in New Jupiter?”

“Is that what they’re calling it?” Sana smiled, leaning against a wall. “It’s a long story. A good one, though.”

“New Jupiter,” he said softly, “that’s quite the distance to travel. What is it, three weeks?”

“Four. Maybe more, depending on what stops we have to make.” Sana paused. “It might be enough time for us to show up with moonshine.”

“Going for my weaknesses, Captain Tripathi?”

“Have they changed?”

“Not at all,” he said simply. “I look forward to both. I have to head out now—my day with the nephews—but it was good to hear from you.”

“Likewise. I’ll be in touch.”

  


_Step 3: Get creative with your supplies_

Sana yawned as she entered the kitchen. A eight-hour piloting shift through IGR territory was no joke. She’d been very grateful when Krejjh showed up a little early to take over. The need to sleep was fighting with hunger. Almost winning too. She’d regret it if she let it, so here she was, pulling out a plate and food from the cupboards.

When they all started exploring the new ship, they had found the kitchen cupboards stocked with rations. Good thing too. Sana had been going off her gut when deciding which ship to break into. It had also come with matching dishes and cups. Park and Violet had said they were standard-issue. It had thrown Sana, those first few times she opened a cupboard to find an array of off-white plastic instead of mismatched personal effects, sometimes more than anything else about the ship. 

Her hands busied themselves making a sandwich as her tired eyes blinked past the glare of the kitchen lights. If she was being honest with herself—a rule Sana generally abided by—she was getting sick of sandwiches. It was the one meal the ship rations most easily lent themselves to. It’d be a few days till the _Iris_ reached a safe place to stop for supplies.

So, with each bite into her sandwich Sana dreamt of a different meal. Sunny-side-up eggs. Warm mutton biryani. That confounding pasta concoction Brian had made one night that hadn’t looked promising but had tasted delicious. (Brian had never figured out how to recreate it.) 

She was dreaming of fresh fruit when the kitchen door slid open to reveal Park. His good eye blinked a couple of times, the black eyepatch covering the other one a stark contrast to his face. He wasn’t wearing his uniform jacket. It was a strange sight, him in a simple white undershirt.

“Captain.” He grabbed a cup from a cupboard and walked over to the sink in that purposeful manner of his. “I don’t mean to interrupt, merely getting some water.” 

“Hey, Park,” Sana greeted, glancing at her half-eaten sandwich. An interruption sounded good. “You’re more than welcome to take a seat.”

“Sure,” replied Park, taking the chair opposite her. He leisurely looked around the kitchen and rubbed a hand over the patchy stubble on his face. 

She could not get the measure of him. Park was the one who had been in on their plan and RJ the unexpected addition, but she’d seen far more of RJ around the ship, usually talking to Krejjh or Violet. Park, however, appeared at crew meetings, did whatever was asked of him and sometimes more—other Violet had been pleased at his report summarizing everything he knew about the IGR’s projects—but always seemed to slip into his room when no one was looking. 

Sana had seen Violet ask Park if he wanted her to take a look at his injury. He had politely but stiffly declined the offer, commenting that the IGR had made sure that his eye socket had no lingering chance of infection. Would be a waste to bring an agent back from Zone Z and have their efficiency reduced from complications, he had said, humor in his voice. 

Sana casted around for a topic of conversation a little less awkward than that as she finished off her sandwich. Park seemed content to sit in silence, his posture neither guarded nor relaxed. Just ready. For what, she couldn’t figure out. 

Brian entered the room then, a condiment bottle in his hand and a look in his eyes usually reserved for particularly finicky translations. “Hey, dudes, either of you hungry?” 

Sana felt a pang of hunger at his words, her stomach not yet satisfied. She nodded.

“Park?” asked Brian.

“I could eat?” Park frowned.

“Okay, gimme a minute,” said Brian, stepping past them to grab stuff from the cupboards and beginning to do...something, judging from the sounds behind her. Sana felt no urge to turn around. While she fully believed in each and every one of her crew, experience told her Brian’s cooking was better eaten than watched.

Park hadn’t had the chance to learn that particular lesson. His good eye squinted, the dark brown iris darting between Brian and Sana. “What exactly are you making?”

“So,” Brian began, “you know how we only managed to save a couple of bags of our stuff? I was digging through one of’em while in the cockpit, and I found this buried at the bottom.”

“A...bottle of sauce?” Park asked, the skepticism clear on his face. 

“Not just any sauce.” The sound of the stove being lit and a pot being placed on the flame accompanied Brian’s reply. “Pepper sauce from the one mafia front in Neuzo that actually had decent food. Guaranteed to kick anything up a notch, even these rations.” 

Sana expected Park’s frown to deepen. Instead, a look of interest crossed his face. “That sounds promising.”

“Like, I hope this turns out well? ‘Cause the other day I ran into Arkady and Violet on one of their maybe-dates and they were eating dried-out crackers. It was kinda sad,” Brian said. 

“I don’t think the crackers ruined anything.” Or at least Sana hoped so. Okay, no, she did have more faith than that in them.

Park raised his eyebrows. “Are we your test subjects before you surprise them, then?”

The stove clicked off. “Yep. Last chance to bail.”

“I like my chances,” said Sana, trying not to yawn.

“I suppose I’ve risked worse for them,” Park’s mouth twitched into a nervous smile. He took another sip. The ceiling light caught on something reflecting off his finger. A ring. Sana’s brain fumbled for a name that RJ had let slip once when Park wasn’t around. They’d looked sorry as soon as they’d said it, inelegantly changing the subject.

When Sana’s gaze flickered back to Park’s face, she found him watching her. His hand curled tight around the glass.

“How are you adapting to life on the run?” Sana tried. She genuinely hadn’t had the chance to ask him, between the flying shifts and everything else.

“McCabe’s coping better than I expected,” This time, Park's smile seemed firmer. He nodded at Brian, “Your partner, they’re apparently not one to hold grudges.”

“Krejjh is super awesome and chill like that,” Brian replied over the sounds of him mixing something furiously. 

Park was almost as bad at deflecting as Arkady was. Almost. Sana pressed on. “And you?”

His gaze unflinching, Park’s voice dropped to a murmur. “Have I given you cause for concern, Captain?” 

Sana barely made out the words. She didn’t like the sound of them. Before she could say so, Brian approached the table with a bowl, clearly unaware of Park’s response. The food smelled delicious. 

“Hey, dude?” Brian plopped down into a chair. “I’m sorry about your wife.”

“What.” Park’s eye snapped from Sana to Brian, his voice clipped. “What’s there to be sorry about?”

Brian gave him a sympathetic look. “RJ—”

“McCabe,” Park let out the name in a sigh. “Not new intelligence, of course.” 

“If it makes you feel better,” Sana said, “they were in the middle of panicking about their own family. I don’t think they meant to let slip Shelly’s name. We’re all familiar with how the IGR treats those close to traitors.”

“No.” Park’s nose twitched. “Well, yes, I’m familiar. But Shelly’s fine, so both of your mournful faces are quite unnecessary.”

People became rather unlike themselves when their loved ones were threatened. Still, denial was a strange look on Park. 

“We,” Park said slowly, “were never blind. We’ve always had plans for her safety. The trigger was unorthodox, and aid from insurgents keeping me alive definitely unexpected, but she’s always known what to do to take care of herself.”

“You’ve heard from her?” Sana asked. 

Park seemed irritated at the very question. “We haven’t been in contact since I returned from Zone Z.” 

“I won’t do her the disservice of assuming she failed. If she hasn't contacted me, it's because it isn't safe for her. I’ll—”Park’s back straightened. “I’ll talk to McCabe. They have enough on their mind without this distracting them too. I didn’t think they’d-”

“Worry about you?” Brian made a sound of disbelief. “Dude, Krejjh said you’re like, the main reason they turned sides.” 

Park finished off his glass. “Your friends made some persuasive arguments of their own. Is the food ready?”

“Yeah,” Brian passed out plates and cutlery to the two of them. “Okay, guys, I want your full and honest opinions here.”

“You know,” Sana said, looking at Park’s hair. Nothing like the relatively neat cut he’d arrived on the _Iris_ with, even after the events of New Jupiter. It was messy and longer after the past few weeks. Sana suspected Park was a man who liked what he was familiar with. “I’ve been told I give decent haircuts.”

“It’s true.” Brian nodded. “I mean, I kinda just go at mine with a pair of scissors, but Captain’s responsible for Arkady’s.”

Park snorted. “I might take you up on that offer. I don’t think growing out my hair would suit me.”

  


_Step 4: Maintain morale._

When they finally put enough distance between themselves and New Jupiter, a grim sense of relief permeated the ship. They made a quick stop for supplies and fuel. They relied on the autopilot more. Sana finally got the chance and the parts to bring back the moonshine. It definitely could use some tweaking, taste-wise, but it got the job done. 

Even so, Sana’s hands continued to itch, that familiar need to re-purpose and construct buzzing in her mind. The next project was immediately obvious. She had enough time. The _Iris_ being docked planet-side for the next few days was a clear opportunity. 

She tapped her comms into the ship’s speakers. Then she thought better of it, and disconnected. It didn’t need to be a secret, but there was some worth in surprises. The thrill of pulling one off in a ship this size would be a nice reward on its own.

Luck was on her side, because she didn’t run into anyone on the ship until she reached the airlock. A familiar figure stood there, taking a deep breath and looking sternly at the door as if it were an opponent. 

“Hey, RJ,” Sana greeted. 

“Oh!” RJ started, spinning around frantically. “Um, afternoon, Captain.”

“Afternoon. Are you thinking of heading outside?” asked Sana. “The forecast says it’s going to be a lovely day.”

“That’s-that’s good information to know, Captain.” RJ kept standing at attention, hands at their sides.

Sana winced. “Remember that conversation we had about the ship hierarchy? Namely that we’re not big on it?”

“Right.” RJ let out a sigh, their body slackening. They looked embarrassed. 

That hadn’t been Sana’s intention either. Weeks had passed and there was still a sense of uneasiness around Park and RJ. Not on their part, and not on the rest of the crew’s part. Just on Sana’s.

It was something about the way they called her “Captain”.

Arkady said the term bluntly, like it was a fact. Krejjh said it with delight, as if it locked something in their mind about Sana. Brian said it as casually as he did most things. Violet said it with simple trust.

Weeks later, Park and RJ still said it like they were acknowledging a threat. 

All Sana could do for now was prove that she wasn’t one, to disillusioned Park who seemed mildly surprised every day to be still standing, to the nervous RJ standing in front of her now. 

“I still have some shopping left to do, care to join me?” Sana glanced back at the empty hallway, and then leaned in to whisper conspiratorially. “Arkady’s birthday is in four days.”

“Why are we whispering?” RJ whispered back. “You made an announcement about the party to the entire crew. Including her.”

“I’m trying to build her present without her noticing.”

RJ opened the airlock door. “We should move quickly then. She was just here.”

“Oh?” Sana said, as the two of them exited the ship. It was indeed a lovely day outside, a stark contrast to the cloudy sky that had loomed over the crew’s shopping trip the day before. Park and RJ had finally gotten new clothes. Their IGR uniforms had been starting to look worse for wear, even without the official emblems cut off.

Today RJ was wearing a jacket thrown over green flannel. They looked as uncomfortable in it as Violet had looked in her fake guard uniform. They shoved their hands in their pockets. “She showed me how to hide my gun better. Something about IGR guards being too used to keeping their sidearms visible.”

Sana smiled. “She’s full of useful tips like that.” 

“Then she muttered something unintelligible and disappeared.” RJ frowned.

“You get used to it eventually. We’re heading over here.” Sana gestured towards one of the stores to their right. 

RJ stared at the sign. “Garde—oh, you’re making another mini-greenhouse for Patel?”

The surprise must have shown on Sana’s face, because RJ scrunched their shoulders immediately. “I, um, logged a lot of hours listening to those reports. The mini-greenhouse was one of the landmarks in the sound profile the analysts liked to use.”

“Honestly, RJ, sometimes I forget how much you and Park know about us.” Sana was careful to say the words without much weight to them, letting them stand on their own, as she picked up what she needed. Condemnation or absolution wasn’t hers to give, really. 

“I”—RJ paused—“sometimes I forget too.”

“Have we been what you expected?” She’d checked in with RJ before, but all she’d gotten those times were a quick “Everythingsgoingfinedoyouneedmetodosomething”. Not ideal. Sana was feeling optimistic today.

“Kind of,” RJ replies, their voice small. “Everything matches the facts and the details I knew, but it’s like they’re colored differently now.”

Sana nodded in acknowledgement. She paid for her purchases, and spoke again once they were outside the store. “I’ve heard comments on that dissonance before.” 

“Violet’s different.” RJ’s eyes snapped to Sana’s. “She didn’t even trust any of you at the start but our conclusion from the early reports was she’d always been a potential insurgent. All those questions and details amassed. She didn’t know half of what I did, but still, she doubted.”

RJ paused. “I didn’t. I had questions about methodology, about efficiency, but never about the goals.” RJ fidgeted with the bottom of their jacket. “Sorry, that’s not what you asked me.”

“Hey, I’m glad you shared that with me,” Sana reassured. Asking the former agents their ages had hardly seemed important with everything that needed to be done, but here in the bright sunlight, Sana found herself struck by how young RJ looked, their expressions painfully transparent. Definitely younger than Arkady by at least a few years. Likely grew up on a core IGR planet. “Look. I don’t think you need me to tell you that making the choice you did, when you did, mattered. Maybe you could have made different ones earlier. If you ask me, all of us are better off looking forward to the next choice.”

RJ looked thoughtful, and Sana counted that as a victory.

“I’ve got some more stops to make, but did you have plans to head somewhere? I did run into you at the airlock,” said Sana. 

“I, uh”—RJ’s mouth twitched—“was going to do some present shopping as well. I saw something yesterday I thought Krejjh would like.”

Anything helping those two’s unlikely friendship sounded all right to her. “Lead the way.”

Sana got to work as soon as they were done with their shopping and back on the ship. She tweaked her design as she put it together—adjustments in response to the supplies she’d actually had, new insights into keeping it sturdier. If anyone noticed her disappearing into her room in the snatches of free time she had, they said nothing. 

Three days later, she yawned as she completed the finishing touches. It was a little past midnight in ship time. Technically already Arkady’s birthday, but she could very well be asleep. Sana padded over to the terminal in the corner of her room and sent Arkady a message asking her to drop by the next day when she could. 

Sana had barely put away her tools away when there was a sharp knock on the door, a muffled voice echoing through it. “Sana?”

She headed to the door, opening it to find Arkady on the other side. Sana raised her eyebrows. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“Do I look like I just woke up?” Arkady stepped into the room. She was fully-dressed and fully-armed. Another tick back to the status quo after they’d all resupplied.

Sana shrugged and shut the door. “You once said you slept wearing your armed holsters. I’m not completely confident that you were joking.”

“Very funny. Also a stupidly dangerous thing to do,” said Arkady, “What’s up?”

“Firstly, happy birthday!” Sana smiled. “Secondly, I have a present for you.”

“Thought the point of having a birthday party meant we could quarantine all the feelings to those specific hours.” Arkady made a face and leaned against the wall. “Still don’t get the point of it, though. The crew drinking moonshine and eating together tends to happen every few nights as is. We don’t need the excuse.”

“It’s not an excuse, it’s a reason to celebrate.” Sana said. “And after last year—”

“I was a little occupied with hacking into Dwarnian mafia systems, I don’t think letting a date slip matters much.”

Most people didn’t forget their own birthdays, but Sana dropped the subject. “Well, we’re here now.” 

Sana sat cross-legged in front of the grey metal box on the floor. She waved Arkady over. Arkady crouched next to her, eyeing the box. “A toolbox? Sana, if you wanted me to get better at the engine tweaks you could just ask.”

Sana shook her head. “There’s a button on the bottom right corner over there. Press it.”

“Okay,” Arkady narrowed her eyes at Sana, and pressed the button. 

Sana had seen it countless times by now. The top half of the box would move up and backwards to reveal the gridded soil layer and the various other working parts. So Sana watched Arkady instead.

The small look of wonder on Arkady’s face at the sight could never get old. 

The _Rumor_ ’s mini-greenhouse had been more of a proof of concept for Sana than anything. The only plant she tried to grow within it died within a week of germinating. Mint was supposed to be the easiest herb to grow. Green thumb, she didn’t have, and the _Rumor_ had kept her plenty busy as it was. She’d showed the greenhouse to Arkady on a whim when giving her the grand tour of the ship. Mentioned where the supplies were as an afterthought. 

It had been a surprise when she’d passed by the kitchen one night to find Arkady sowing some seeds. Arkady had been humming to herself, her gaze alternating between the work and the tablet she had propped up next to it. Her hands moved with far more care and patience than Sana had ever seen them do so, adjusting one of the small lamps to angle the light just so. Sana had stood and watched for a moment. 

A month or so later, Arkady had offered her a cup of mint tea, along with an off-handed comment on having too much free time on her hands. The warmth of the cup had seeped into Sana’s fingers as she took it. 

Had felt like a good sign. Had felt like the essence of what she’d wanted for the _Rumor._ Her, building off what others had offered freely, and then other people adding on to her own work. No one standing on the shoulders of giants. Merely person after person leaving their own mark. 

“Sana,” Arkady finally said, breaking her out of her reminiscing, “The greenhouse wasn’t _mine_ , you—”

“Did you know it’s a lot harder to put a greenhouse in the wall of a ship you didn’t put together? Don’t get me wrong, I’ve got some ideas,” Sana interrupted breezily. “But this one’s yours.”

Sana pressed a small packet into Arkady’s hands. “Saved some seeds from your old plant.”

“That’s what you saved from the ship?” Arkady looked at her incredulously. “Spearmint seeds?”

“Coveralls have a lot of pockets.” Sana laid a hand on Arkady’s shoulder, squeezing tight. “I’m glad to be marking another one of your birthdays.”

“The big two eight, whoop-de-doo,” Arkady muttered. Her gaze dropped to the box.

Sana continued, “I couldn’t ask for a better first mate, or friend.”

“You’re going to say all of this again at the party, aren’t you?”

Sana pretended to think for a second. “Probably.”

“Ugh,” Arkady groaned. “Okay, okay, okay. Thanks.”

Arkady pressed the button again to close the box. “Now I get to figure out what Violet’s plotting.”

“Is she? Plotting?” Sana’s smile widened.

“She’s definitely planning something. She keeps doing that weird twitchy thing with her face.” Arkady’s voice was fond. “It is so hard not pointing it out to her, Sana, it’s the worst.”

“I’m sure you’ll live, Kady.”

  


_Step 5: Find your way home._

Sana gave the wrench one final twist and stepped back from the regulator. Looked good. She brought the cover down, walking down the hallway with a spring in her step. Her maintenance run was done, they were a few hours out from Telemachus and Campbell confirmed that things looked good. As had the other sources they’d checked with, at Arkady’s insistence. And Park’s. 

She turned the corner, thinking about engine checks and tools when she walked into something. Or, more accurately, someone. 

“Sorry, Captain,” Violet looked up at her, and yawned. “Didn’t see you there.”

“No harm done,” Sana replied. 

“I’ll—I should go now.” Violet’s eyes suddenly widened, flicking between Sana and the hallway. She nodded firmly. “Good day to you, Captain.”

“Everything okay, Violet?” Sana started. Among the other weirdness, it definitely wasn’t day, which Violet knew because she was still wearing her pajamas. “I know it’s been a long few weeks for us all.”

“What?” Violet looked startled by the simple question. “Everything is so okay. Super okay. The okayest.”

“Violet”—Sana stopped herself.

Pajamas. Acting really weird around Sana. Just got out of the bathroom. Was that the beginning of a blush? Also, wasn’t Violet’s room on the other side of the ship? In fact, only one person had a room in this hallway leading to the airlock.

“I’m not anyone’s chaperone here, Violet,” Sana said, amused.

“I know,” said Violet, somehow looking even more embarrassed, “turns out my half-asleep brain jumped back in time to sneaking around like a teenager. Hence whatever that was. Sorry.”

Sana was only human. “You know, you did get to pick your room.”

“We have an actual medbay now—no offense Captain—and I’m still the only one on this ship that that’s well-versed in using it. Made sense.” More quietly, Violet said, “and I was trying to be considerate.”

“Well, don’t mind me, I was just heading to the cockpit.” Sana gestured.

“I’ll join you,” Violet said, and the two of them walked down the hallway, “Arkady’s busy verifying that none of her remaining aliases have been compromised. I’m not even sure what round of that she’s on now. It’s just Arkady being Arkady, right?”

“You’re worried because the IGR knows Telemachus is my home planet, and that Campbell’s there.”

“A little, yeah.” admitted Violet. “I mean, I know we’ve swept the ship and that they’re busy doing damage control.”

“Telemachus’s relationship with the government comes in handy—we’re not a new colony, but we’re definitely not part of the core.” Sana pocketed the wrench. “Easy to overlook. They only really pay attention when we make them, and we haven’t done that in a while.” 

“Was that when you got arrested?” Violet asked.

“Good guess,” Sana replied, stopping in front of the cockpit door, “After the crackdown, people adapted, leaned towards using less obvious means, and though they tightened the rules, the IGR figured we learnt our lesson. It’s the only way Campbell’s lasted as long as he has there.”

Violet knitted her brow, that familiar look of her taking in new information. “Huh.”

“Don’t get me wrong, it wasn’t easy, what he did. But it does mean I like our chances.”

Unexpectedly, a smile curled up on Violet’s face. “Are you looking forward to seeing—”

The door to the cockpit slid open.

Park had a strange look of resignation on his face. “Captain. Violet.”

“See ya, Park!” A yell from Krejjh came from the pilot’s seat. 

“Thanks, Krejjh,” he acknowledged. He nodded at Sana and Violet before making his way past them, his stride as purposeful as always. 

“What was Park thanking you for?” asked Violet as the two of them filed into the cockpit, door closing behind them. 

“Hmm?” Krejjh looked back with a strip of fruit jerky hanging out of their mouth. They slurped it in, chewing and swallowing it disturbingly fast. “Gave him some jerky.” 

Sana shrugged when Violet looked at her. Krejjh had good taste in snacks, and as opaque as Park could be, that seemed a fair enough reason as any to thank them. 

Krejjh muttered under their breath. “Park. Pa-ark. Park.” 

“Is that a hard name for Dwarnians to pronounce?” asked Violet. She slid into the chair next to Krejjh, shaking her head when Krejjh proffered the open bag to her. 

“Kinda?” Krejjh turned to Sana with the bag. “It’s also been a long time since I’ve met a human who refused a title. Weird. ” 

Sana took a piece. “Campbell?”

“That’s different,” Krejjh frowned, setting the bag back down. “He _chose_ that name. Park didn’t, right?”

“Not that I know of.” Sana knew very well that Park had been born with his name, thanks to Arkady’s insistence on looking into their new crewmates. Everything Arkady found had corroborated what Park and RJ had to say about themselves. It seemed to reassure and annoy Arkady in equal measure. (“They’re not lying about anything? Why?”)

Violet yawned. “Are most humans fans of the title thing?”

“Yeah.” Krejjh spun their chair back to the controls. Their hands ghosted over the controls even as the dashboard showed the ship to be running on autopilot. “Then again, fellas, most of the humans I’ve met were in Neuzo or here on the ship.”

“Not a great sample size,” Violet remarked.

In the dim reflection of the ship’s window, Sana saw Krejjh squint for a second before seeming to get it. “I figure for most folks, Dwarnian or not, it’s nice having what you’re good at recognized?”

“I imagine ‘Former Agent’ has a certain sting to it when you were never planning on turning,” Sana said dryly. 

“He probably just likes going by Park,” said Violet, “I mean, he hasn’t even dropped a mention of his first name.”

“Isn’t it Lenny?” Krejjh sounded confused.

“I never did explain that, did I?” Sana finally popped the jerky into her mouth, chewing slowly. “It was something I started calling the agents once I realised they were listening in. I guess Park hadn’t been sent to Zone Z yet.” 

Though, Sana imagined, the entire crew could have started calling him Lenny and Park would’ve been game. He seemed to find humor in the strangest things, as stiff as his default demeanor was. 

“How are we looking, Krejjh?” Sana stepped closer to the pilot’s seat. 

“No signs of any trouble,” Krejjh replied. 

“Good,” Sana said, her eyes idly wandering the cockpit and landing on the two posters on the walls, neither quite angled right. One had been RJ’s sudden gift—a poster from some old Earth movie back when piloting had nothing to do with space, colorful block text blazed above the profile of a young face staring into the sky, flight goggles high on his forehead. 

Included in what Brian had managed to save from the _Rumor_ was everyone’s storage devices, meaning Krejjh still had their drive full of their favorite human-made movies. Long before Violet had joined them, the crew of the _Rumor_ had spent many an eventless night in space watching whatever movie Brian had thought to download from their last local connection, cups of moonshine and people’s blankets scattered around the cockpit. 

Sana had always had a certain fondness for those early twenty-first century films that depicted space travel, the clumsy hope and wonder of it all. Krejjh had bounced off those, their face scrunched up in attempts to understand that soon gave way to disinterest. No, Krejjh’s favorites were the kind of that poster plastered next to them, filled with devil-may-care aces cutting through atmosphere instead of away from it, flying planes today that had been thought of yesterday. 

Made a certain sort of sense. The Dwarnians had spent far more time traveling through space than humans ever had.

Violet caught Sana’s gaze, her eyes then falling on the posters. The corner of her mouth turned upwards. “My eyes go a little wonky whenever I look at them too, Captain.”

“Hey, Krejjh spends the most time here, I think it’s fair they make they decorating choices,” said Sana.

“Sharpshooter McCabe’s poster was actually an accident,” Krejjh said, looking thoughtful, “but the other one was intentional. Crewman Jeeter and I put it at an angle as a statement, yeah, of being the amazing outlaws we are. Though we did cut out all the words, so there aren’t...any...statements...on...it.”

Krejjh scowled. Hard to tell if it was at the language or the original state of the poster. Violet leaned forward to pat them on the shoulder reassuringly. 

“If it helps, I think you look even more the dashing pilot in it without the propaganda text,” offered Sana.

“The forty-five degree angle helps too,” said Violet. 

Krejjh’s expression grew smug. “I sure do, don’t I?”

True to Krejjh’s words, the other poster was heavily modified. Its top and bottom edges were jagged and uneven, like someone had hacked away at it with a pair of scissors but was more concerned with getting the job done than retaining the poster’s original shape. No trace of text to be seen. All that remained of the poster was the image of a younger Krejjh—by how much, Sana couldn’t tell. They were smiling widely, a glint in their eyes as they leaned against a shining spaceship, their well-fitted flight suit slightly unzipped. 

Apparently some strains of war propaganda transcended species. Sana spoke. “Not much need to dash on this last stretch, I’m afraid.”

“Don’t get me wrong, Captain Tripathi, you know I love a challenge, but—” Krejjh idly extended and bent their right leg, rubbing the heel of a hand against the knee. The _Iris_ had a very good medbay. Krejjh’s knee was back to eighty percent of its original functionality, Violet had said, and that was unlikely to decrease.

It was also unlikely to ever increase. 

“Is it hurting?” asked Violet, her gaze fixed on Krejjh’s knee. Everyone knew—Violet had spent hours upon hours scouring medical journals, any resource she could get her hands on, followed up on any contact the others could give. Had turned out that there wasn’t many human resources on how to treat Dwarnian injuries inflicted by IGR weapons. More the opposite. 

She’d tapped into Krejjh’s knowledge for Dwarnian sources too. No luck there either.

It’d been a painful conversation when Sana had found Violet in the medbay at some absurd hour on yet another night, her head hunched over her tablet, her fist tight around strands of her own hair. A necessary one, though. Sana knew how not being able to fix something could be the worst feeling in the world. 

Sana suspected Krejjh’s nonchalant reaction had only made it worse. (“Not real necessary for being the dazzingly talented pilot I am, Science Officer Liu, but thanks for trying.”)

“Nah, just getting those stretches in,” Krejjh shook their head, “what was I saying? Yeah, challenges, sign me up, but still feels awful nice to be heading somewhere familiar, y’know? And I’m not saying that just ‘cause Campbell promised me that hot sauce.”

“Yeah,” Violet said softly, her eyes sliding from Krejjh to the window. “Somewhere familiar.” 

Sana moved to stand between the two of them. The curved grey-brown surface that was Telemachus took up most of the view. It looked different. It looked different every time, and she could never tell if it was real change over the years, or the usual fallibility of memories. 

“Time to call folks in, Captain Tripathi?” asked Krejjh. Their hand hovered over the switch for the speakers. 

Sana kept staring out the window. Somewhere familiar. She’d stopped expecting that from Telemachus a long time ago.

That was always the temptation of returning to where you were from—recognizing some detail of the landscape and assuming you were almost home when it had stopped being your home the moment you left. Making the mistake of thinking: _I know the way from here_. 

Sana didn’t. 

That was okay—she didn’t need to.

Sana nodded. “Make the announcement, Krejjh.”

They’d figure it out as a crew.

**Author's Note:**

> Credit to eggshrimproll for the beta. :D Any remaining mistakes are entirely my own.
> 
> As always, you can find me at jaggedwolf on tumblr and dreamwidth.


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